Another guard came at me. I ducked his blow, dropping to the ground and spinning around with an extended leg, sweeping him off his feet. He hit the ground with enough force to bruise his spine, but he didn't even grunt, just sprung back to his feet and leapt toward me.

I whacked out with a shoe, the spiked heel spearing through his hand. Fire flickered as his flesh began to burn, and he made a gargling sound. I ducked his punches, then thrust up, hitting him hard under the chin and sending him flying backward, my shoe still stuck in his paw.

Rhoan suddenly appeared beside me. He hurled away another wolf, then grabbed my arm. "Let's get out of here. The four remaining guards are undoubtedly on the way."

"We can beat four."

I twisted away from the blows of the vampire with the bloody nose, then kicked him in the nuts, as hard as I could. He went down with an oomph and didn't get up.

"Not without killing the other six." Rhoan disappeared from my sight for a moment then reappeared, the smell of blood thick on his skin.

"There are other options to killing. Like, calling in help." Hey, the things in our ears were there for that very purpose.

"Right now, they might think we're just thieves. The minute they know the Directorate is onto them, they'll pack up and leave. That's what happened in England after the seventeen kills there."

I ducked another blow then punched upward, aiming for the vamp's chin. He dodged, the bastard, and lashed out at me with a booted foot. The blow caught me in my still-healing thigh and pain flared. I hissed and whacked him with my remaining shoe. "Seventeen? I thought it was only a dozen or so?"

"There were four other similar kills the police couldn't connect to the club." He shrugged. "I did a little investigating after you went to bed."

"You didn't tell me that."

"Slipped my mind," He paused, then added, "The other men just entered the room. We need to get out now."

"Then go. I'll follow."

"Like hell. Sisters first."

He shoved me forward. I staggered a few steps, caught my balance, then ran like hell back through the machine room, heading for the loading bay and the half-open door. Hoping, of course, that it wasn't now closed. Although the lasers would soon take care of that.

Rhoan grabbed my arm, his grip tight, bruising. "Faster."

We pounded through the shadows, ducking and weaving as the remaining guards came at us, shoving them out of the way more than fighting them.

We reached the steps and pounded up them. I thrust open the door and ran inside. We'd gained precious seconds on our pursuers. Part of me wondered if it was going to be enough, simply because we had no idea what waited in the loading bay. I certainly didn't trust the silence coming from that room, that was for sure.

"Push the shelving unit down," Rhoan said, pointing to the unit on the left while he headed right.

I moved quickly to one side and shoved it with all my might. The unit made an odd sort of groan then slowly began to topple. Machinery bits and tools scattered, clanging across the floor and making enough noise to raise the dead. Or another alarm. Though I guess that was a pretty pointless worry when they were obviously more than a little aware of the fact they had uninvited guests.

Rhoan shoved a heavy-looking desk in front of the shelves. "That'll hold them for a few seconds."

I restrained the impulse to point out we'd actually wasted seconds creating the block, and just headed for the other door. There was still no sound coming from the loading bay, but awareness tingled across my skin as I gripped the door handle.

I glanced at my brother, saw him nod, then thrust the door open. Rhoan flowed through it, a shadow rilled with deadly intent. The man on the other side didn't have a chance.

I leapt over his body and followed my brother's fleeing form, my gaze on that bright patch of sunshine and the freedom it represented.

From the corner of my eye I caught the hint of movement. I risked a glance and saw the man with the gun.

"He's armed," I yelled, reaching for my own weapon.

But I was too slow. Far too slow.

Something hit my shoulder and spun me around. Somehow, I retained my balance and kept running. That batch of sunshine was close, so close.

Ahead, Rhoan stumbled, his fingers brushing the concrete as he balanced and went on. Something silver glittered in his shoulder. Fear hit me. I reached back, feeling my own shoulder. Felt something small and metallic sticking out from it. I pulled it free.

A dart.

He'd goddamn darted us.

Oh, fuck…

It was my last conscious thought as the concrete rushed up to meet me.

Chapter Twelve

Waking was a nightmare. My skin felt like it was on fire and everything ached. Everything thumped. My head, my heart, my body. Even whatever it was I was laying on. It was a thick, heavy beat that was both monotonous and relentless, going on and on and on.

It took me a while to realize that it wasn't actually me, that things were thumping. It was an engine. Not a very powerful engine, but an engine all the same.

With that realization, my other senses came online. The air was thick with smell offish and the tangy saltiness of the ocean, but behind it came the smell of diesel and man.

Jared. Or Jorn. Or whatever his real name was.

And given the fishy smell and that endless, relentless thumping, it was pretty much a given that neither he nor I were anywhere near the club.

I took a deeper breath, trying to find Rhoan.

Wherever he was, it wasn't close. His leathery, spicy scent was absent.

I shifted and realized my hands and feet were tied—and had been for some time if the cramps shooting up my legs were anything to go by—and cautiously opened my eyes. What met my gaze was metal and wood.

A box.

A cage.

The bastard had caged me. Like an animal.

But this was one animal mere wood and metal would not contain—although there was no point in busting out until I knew the whole situation. I might very well step from the frying pan into the fire.

It was something of a habit, after all.

I twisted my legs around so I could look at my feet. My shoes were gone, and the ropes that were binding my ankles were thick and strong. They were also damp, meaning they were tightening as they dried out, digging into my skin. There were blood smears under the ropes already—I must have been struggling against them when I was unconscious. The knot itself didn't look too hard to undo, but with my hands bound behind my back, undoing it was next to impossible.

But maybe I didn't need to undo them. Maybe I just needed to change shape, and the ropes would slip off. I mean, they'd been tied to a human, not a wolf, and therefore I should have plenty of maneuvering room in my wolf shape.

I called to my wolf, felt the power of her sweep right through me, only I didn't expect the pain that came with the change. It burst through my mind—a blinding, hot, bone-breaking pain caused not only by limbs twisted into positions not natural to a wolf, but by the presence of silver. I might not be able to see it, but it was close. Close enough to be affecting my shapeshifting.

I bit back a howl and twisted around, desperate to get my legs free. The ropes fell away, releasing my limbs, allowing my legs to fall into a position more natural to a wolf.

The pain eased into a deeper throbbing ache, but the burning presence of silver didn't go away. It was all around me—under my feet, near my sides, over my head, Yet there wasn't a bit of silver in sight. Only wood and the metal strapping holding the cage together.

I scrambled to my feet. It made the ache worse, my abused and overstretched muscles shaking under the additional pressure of my weight. I ignored both and sniffed out the confines of my cage. If it had been used before, then I couldn't tell for what. There were no odors caught in the wood, no fur or scent markings to hint at what might have been here before me.